


always come back to this

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Flashback, I have nothing against Harry's biological father this is just for the plot, M/M, Self-Harm Harry, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:20:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1778914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I close the door, sit on the lidded toilet and search for something. My blade. I need release from the sign. I can't without my blade. Fuck, where is it?!? I sigh and grab one of Louis' razors. I fiddle with it until I pop the sharp metal out. I pull my trousers off and hike my boxers to reveal my 2 faint pink scars. They need to be redone. I press the metal to my skin and slide it. Yes, there is the numbing feeling. I feel free, I feel released, I feel expressed. Then the door swings open...</p><p>~~OR~~<br/>harry has been self-harming since he was 15 and one day in bogota, louis finds him</p><p>Title from: Please Don't Leave Me by P!NK</p>
            </blockquote>





	always come back to this

**_*Harry's P.O.V in 2009*_ **

I am 15. My parents are fighting like usual. It is so tense around home and I never feel right. My father always gets drunk and abuses us. Not physically but verbally. Constantly shouting and swearing at me, Mum and Gemma. But one night started it all. Mum and him were having an argument. I was in the hall, listening in. Then I heard my name.  
"That shitful son of yours is a disgrace to my name. I didn't raise a faggot. How dare he live in my house? I wish that he was never born as Harry Styles. He can be Harry Cox for all I give a fuck!" My fathers rages, slamming his fists on the table. Tears well in my eyes. I hear my mum scream back but I ignore them. The blood is pounding in my ears and the tears are tracking down my face. I race upstairs and into the bathroom, locking the white door. I look at myself in the mirror. I am a mess. I look around and find something. A new razor. I was on Facebook and saw a post about a thing called 'cutting' and with me being curious, I googled it and it said 'a way of releasing emotions without hurting others but yourself.' That is what I need. I pop the blade out and hold the sharp metal in my hand. It shines under the light above my head. I roll my sleeves on my shirt up and press the blade into the skin. I breathe heavily and slide the blade. It feels painful at first but euphoric afterwards. Adrenaline pulses through me as I slide the metal again and again. I reach about 5 before I hear a knock at the door.  
"Harry, love, are you almost done?" I her my mum's voice call from behind the wood.  
"Yeah. Just gimme a minute." I reply, hopefully not to shakily. I grab a face cloth and wrap it around my wrist, hissing as the cotton contacts my open wound. I cover it with my sleeve and walk out. That is the beginning of my addiction. Once a week becomes 3 days a week and before I know it, I cut every day.

**_ *Harry's P.O.V in 2014* _ **

I hate hiding things from Louis. We promised when we started dating to tell each other everything. It's been like 4 years and I have managed to keep my cutting a secret. My dad's words always finding their way back into my mind. I began on my thighs with one or two on one thigh only. Then when Louis would get intimate, he would ask. I would shrug and say I scratched myself on the wooden bedside table. He would laugh and smile. It works because he knows I am a klutz. It hurts me to lie to him but I can't just tell him. Who wants to be in love with a cutter and a liar? He probably think I am just an attention seeker and just drop our relationship altogether. I couldn't live like that. He is the only reason keeping me from cutting more than once. I think about the thought deeper and shudder.

_Positive thoughts Haz, positive thoughts._

I am about to on stage in Bogota. Tour has begun and it's amazing. Everyone is hyped, adrenaline-pumped and buzzing. We put our hands and Liam rallies,  
"Lets knock em dead lads!" We all nod and smiles. We do our chant and wait for our cue. Let's do this!

I am singing 'Better Than Words' when I spot a sign with my name on it. I squint and read what it says. _Harry is a faggot_  My smile falters and my heart drops. Memories of my dad's booming voice fills my head. Tears well but I fight then back. I will deal with myself later. The way I need too.

The concert is finished but the sign's words are still fresh in my mind. Louis is jumpy as is the rest of the boys. He notices my off behaviour.  
"Babe, what's up? You look a little down." He asks, wrapping his arms around my waist.  
"Nothing. Just sad the concert's over." I sigh. He raises an eyebrow but says no more. We run to our bus and it takes us to our hotel. Louis and I go to our shared room.  
"I call shower first." I yell, running into the ensuite.  
"Fine but I still want some hot water." Louis hollers back. I close the door, sit on the lidded toilet and search for something. My blade. I need release from the sign. I can't without my blade. _**Fuck, where is it?!?**_ I sigh and grab one of Louis' razors. I fiddle with it until I pop the sharp metal out. I pull my trousers off and hike my boxers to reveal my 2 faint pink scars. They need to be redone. I press the metal to my skin and slide it. Yes, there is the numbing feeling. _I feel free, I feel released, I feel expressed._ Then the door swings open...  
"Haz, you okay? I can't hear the wat..." Louis asks, bustling through the entrance before going silent, staring at my thigh. I feel tears well up. Why am I so stupid? How did I forget to lock the door? Louis opens his mouth but only a strangled gurgle comes out. The tears fall over my waterline and I cover my face in my hands and hide between my knees. Maybe if I cover myself enough, I will seem invisible. I hear shuffling of feet and two strong arms wrap around me. I sob harder and begin to rock back and forth. Why did I do this to myself? Louis starts mumbling sweet things in my ear like 'You're perfect', 'I love you so much', 'You're too good for this' and 'Stay strong baby.' They only make me cry harder. He'll probably treat me like a charity case if he doesn't decide to leave me.  
"If-if you wa-wanna leave now, y-you can." I hiccup.  
"Why would I do that?" He soothes, rubbing my back.  
"Be-because I-i'm a fu-fucked up weirdo." I hiccup again, burying myself in my hands further.  
"Baby, you aren't fucked up. You just made a mistake. Everyone does it." Louis coos. He doesn't get it.  
"The same mi-mistake for 5 years r-running?" I prompt him. He lets the information sink in and pulls me tighter.  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Louis chokes out.  
"I was afraid that you would l-leave me." My hiccups slowly subsiding.  
"Never babe. Not in a year or decade or millennium. I love you too much to just get up and leave because of you cutting. I will help you through it." Louis smiles slightly. I laugh bitterly.  
"Why? Why would you help someone like me?"  
"You- you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and no, I’m not just saying it to make you feel better. I wanna marry and care for you, because you’re first person whom I wanna see every morning and the only one I wanna kiss goodnight. I love everything about you, every single fucking thing. I love how your nose scrunches up when you laugh really hard, I love how your cheeks get these cute blotches when you cry or blush, I love how you get jealous over me when the other boys get too close for your liking, I love how we argue over which dessert to order at a restaurant, I love how you always make the bed in the morning, despite how I mess it up later, I love how you look at me, like I’m the only person in the world, I love how our hands fit perfectly together like a jigsaw puzzle, I love how you drive me crazy with every little thing you do in the best way possible, I love how you always try to make up first after a fight even if it’s my fault, I love how you always keep dinner ready for when I come home, I love how you blush every time I compliment you, I love how your face looks when we make love, I love how you bite your lip when you’re nervous, I love all your little imperfections and I-" He sighs slowly, running out of breath but then continues in a soft voice, “I just love you so fucking much. And it breaks my heart that you would do something like this. It crushes me that you never think that you’re good enough for me. How many times do I have to tell you? You- You’re the one for me. Don’t you ever forget that, please-. Please stop doing this. We can work through this, I promise. I’ll always be here with you. I- I just love you more than anything and I will do everything I can to show that to you. But please, you need to promise me that you won’t do this again. If anything is wrong, if you feel the urge to, then just tell me. Talk to me, _I **will** help you_ , cause that’s what people who love each other do.” Louis finishes, his eyes glossy from developing tears. I look up at him and stare.  
"Do you really mean it? Everything you said?" I question.  
"Every single word." He taps my nose after each word. I giggle slightly, brightening the mood a little.  
"You wanna marry me?" I giggle again.  
"Harold Edward Styles, we have been through too much crap together. Of course, you dumb shit." Louis smirks back. I smile but wince as my thigh brushed Louis' jean-clad one. Louis' expression softens as he grabs some anti-septic from the cupboard. He rubs it on my cut and I hiss at the sting.  
"Sorry babe. Let's get you cleaned up. Shower time." Louis apologises before stripping himself of his shirt.  
"What are you doing?" I ask, taking my shirt off.  
"Taking a shower with you." Louis casually replies, unbuttoning his jeans.  
"I'm not a flipping child. I don't need constant watch." I explain, taking my shirt off.  
"I know but now, with what just happened, I just wanna stay with you till I wrap my head around everything." Louis explains, pulling his jeans and briefs down. I nod and get completely naked. I hop in the shower with Louis following suit.

_***Louis' P.O.V, 3 weeks later*** _

It's been about a month since I found Harry that day. We have grown so much stronger now that he has gotten it off his chest. He explained everything to me from 2009 to now. I have been watching him closely but not being over-protecting because he doesn't want that. We threw away all the plastic razors and bought an electric one so he wouldn't be tempted, Harry's idea actually. I feel so proud of him. But today is special day, I am gonna propose to him and fulfil my promise to marry him. I have my idea prepared. I am gonna make him a home cooked dinner of chicken and mash then for dessert, we will have cheesecake but I will put the ring on his cake and propose then. He will be so shocked! _I can't wait!_

**_ *time skip to dessert* _ **

I pull the cheesecake out and cut 2 slices. I pull out my box and look at the ring. It is a simple gold band on the outside but on the inside it is engraved with 'Larry Stylinson forever'. I place it in on Harry's slice and bring them the table. I look at my boyfriend and he smiles fondly back. How did I get so lucky?  
"Lou, what's this?" He investigates, looking at the gold on top of his food. I grip both his hands and stare into his eyes.  
"Harry Styles. You are my star. My wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous, talented star. Ever since we got together at Leeds, my life has changed. I became happier, brighter but most importantly, more loving towards people. You captivated me with your lovely hair, beautiful eyes, deep dimples and charming personality. You had little quirks and I knew you were the one. We had a lots of bumps in the road but we stuck together. We were always honest and trustworthy of each other. I love everything about you. Your eyes, smile, dimples, lips, voice, nose, ears, hair, hands, abs, extra nipples, biceps, thighs, feet and everything in between. Also, our tattoos. We are connected through ink and it makes me feel so fluttery in my tummy when I think about it. So, I pose this question to you. _Will you become Harry Tomlinson-Styles and be my husband?_ " I ask, moving out of my seat and dropping to one knee in front of him. He covers his mouth in shock and nods. I pluck the ring off his dessert and slide it onto his shaky hand. I stand up and he pulls me into a massive bear hug. I can feel his tears but they are happy tears.  
"I love you so much." He sniffles into my neck.  
"I love me too." I joke. He gropes my bum slightly in retaliation.  
"Kidding, I love you too." I reply. We stand there for what seems to be forever, buried in each-other's arms. But when I am with my Hazzabear, forever sounds pretty damn good to me.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this wasn't too triggering for some people. I just felt creative and this was the first idea that popped into my head
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/RachLoves1D5SOS) or on [Tumblr](https://limpnoodlemikey.tumblr.com)


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